


Don't Look Back - GerIta [Germany x Italy] Fanfiction

by wall_spider



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Animal Death, Blood, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gore, M/M, Slow Burn, Updates Monthly, aph, gerita - Freeform, shady deals, spamano - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wall_spider/pseuds/wall_spider
Summary: When Feliciano Vargas finds his brother half-dead on the floor of their apartment, he loses himself. Soon, he feels something stirring inside of him, something he's never felt before-- he wants revenge. His close friend, Detective Ludwig Beilschmidt has no idea what caused this change in his friend- only he knows. He knows things that led to this event, and what he knows puts him and Feliciano in jeopardy. The two embark on a journey together to uncover the truth and start down a path that they can't backtrack out of. What happens when they dig in too deep?





	1. Chapter 1

At first glance, there was an effortless beauty to it and how the red contrasted with the white linoleum. It didn't immediately register that what he was looking at was in fact blood. Slowly, a stiffness built up in his body as his mind began to realize the beauty was actually the essence of one's life. At that point, what was a graceful beauty became a repulsing horror. Seeing Lovino laid out with a meter-wide red pool under him wasn't beautiful. It was downright hysterical. Not hysterical as in funny, hysterical as in one can't determine their reaction.

He didn't move or say a word. He merely stood, eyes wide, legs stiff, taking in the sight of his brother's still body. Lovino's face was covered in the crimson liquid, still oozing it from his nose and his lips. Black, purple, and green blossoms flashed themselves showily underneath the red. They bloomed even further around his eyes, on his cheeks, on his jaw. His greenish brown-tinted eyes stared off into nothing, unblinking and glassy. Long florid gashes on his forehead poured out more of the shiny red liquid. It dribbled into his reddish-brown hair, caking up some of the strands into an unappetizing mess of black and vermilion clots. Lovino's white-and-black striped tank top was also stained with the stuff. It looked as if someone had taken a paintbrush, drenched it in dark red watercolor, and just dripped the paint onto various spots on the shirt. The whole scene was quite magnificent, in all actuality. He thought about painting it for his brother for a split second. It was only when lightning flashed again, white light flooding over Lovino's body, did he finally discover a way to react.

He screamed.

How he screamed. He screamed so loud his voice broke, going higher than before. He wanted to laugh about how funny he sounded, but he couldn't. He still couldn't process what was happening. His throat stung. His chest hurt. His head felt light. His legs felt unsteady. And he screamed again, his shrill wail echoing in the room, traveling to the corridor. He sunk to his knees in front of Lovino. Getting closer only made things worse. The utmost extent of his brother's wounds made him cry out in anguish even louder. He wiped his eyes free of tears, hoping that taking the salty warm droplets from his vision would make it true that the situation was just some sort of sick nightmare he was having. Unfortunately, there is always a lie in believe. " _Fratello! Fratello!_ " he cried out, crawling over to Lovino's form. He didn't even notice the blood seeping into his clothes as he waded through the pool. He was sure it was just his tears. With a trembling hand, he touched his brother's face. It was cold. He placed a frantic hand over his mouth to stifle another hoarse cry of grief. The only sound he couldn't repress was a faint groan. He clenched the fabric of his blood-stained pants, unable to move once again. He ran his thumbs over Lovino's face, smearing red streaks right under his eyes. Lovino was dead. Lovino was dead. His brother was dead.

As if the gentle touch had revived him like true love's kiss, Lovino shuddered and gasped. His back arched while his chest swelled. "Fe-- Feli--" he stammered, inhaling rapidly. "Feli-- ciano." Upon hearing his brother desperately choke out his name, Feliciano leaned down to Lovino's face. Lovino elevated his head up a bit. He immediately winced in pain, coughing up a wave of bright red. " _Merda-_ call someone _idiota_!" the man spat. Only when Lovino squeezed Feliciano's arm, hissing and grimacing painfully, did his brother realize how frantic he should have been. Feliciano fumbled nervously with pulling his phone out of his pocket. His blood-coated hands were barely recognized by the touch sensor. Russet streaks covered the screen. After about three painful tries, the phone tone began to ring. "Hold on _fratello_ ," Feliciano murmured to his brother. Lovino blinked and plopped his bleeding head back down in the puddle with a slight splash. He took a shuddering breath and stared back up at the ceiling. Feliciano began to feel his heart race. Why wasn't anyone on the line picking up? Panicking, he hung up on 911 and called the only person he could think of.

"Oi, _Italien_ , you know I'm-"

"Somebody tried to kill _mio fratello_! He's here and he's bleeding and he's dying and-- just help me, Ludwig!"

Feliciano could hear his friend clambering to his feet from his desk, even through his intense sobbing. "I've got it covered Feli, don't worry," his thick German accent and the use of his nickname somehow made Feliciano feel a bit calmer. "Is he still breathing?" He looked down at his wounded brother, who's dull eyes had glazed back over once again. His desperate hand had fallen from Feliciano's arm. The sole thing that assured him Lovino was still alive was the ragged breaths that seeped from his bleeding lips every three to four seconds. "Y-yes, yes he is! He is but barely. _Mio Dio,_ help him please Ludva!" Feliciano could feel himself getting more restless by the second. " _Gut_. Now how is he hurt? Was he stabbed?" asked Ludwig from the other end of the phone.

" _S- sì._ "

Feliciano looked down at Lovino in surprise, his body convulsing as he gave another painful, spasmodic cough. "He says yes, he was," a cold feeling ran down Feliciano's body. He could feel his blood turning to ice. A short silence was on the other end before Ludwig swore quickly in German and continued. "Don't begin to panic. Take off his shirt, wash your hands, and do exactly as I tell you," he said grimly. His steely tone was even harder than before. Feliciano rapidly rose to his feet, slipping in the puddle beneath him. Thank the Lord the sink was right above them. As he agitatedly reached for the sink's water handle, he could see more blood spattered on the edge of the counter. Nausea stirred in his stomach. He didn’t even need to know, even though he knew he knew. When the pink-tinted water and suds disappeared down the drain, Feliciano darted back over to his brother and stripped off the crimson-stained shirt. He could tell how much pain his brother was in; Lovino didn't react with anything more than a quick gasp. When Feliciano tossed the shirt off to the side, he felt his stomach drop. He sorely wished he didn't have to look.

Under his brother's clothing were deep stab wounds, still oozing fresh blood. They marred his silky olive skin, numbering about seven in total. The skin around them was split and burning lurid red. It was crusted with dried rusty colored liquid even though the flow continued. Feliciano gagged, covering his mouth yet again. "You'll get used to it soon enough," said Ludwig from the other side of the phone. Feliciano had practically forgotten he was still on the phone. "Quickly now, if he's still bleeding, elevate his feet and get something to place on the wounds. Make sure it's completely clean or he might die of infection," Ludwig said. In the background, Feliciano could hear men's voices and the sound of police sirens echoing in the distance. The sound was slightly comforting, but only to an extent when he noticed Lovino's face beginning to turn blue.

He leaped to his feet and ran to the linen closet. The blood on the soles of his feet made his shoes slick yet sticky. He pulled out several washcloths, sprinting back to the sink. The water gushed from the faucet in a wave, but it was ice cold. _Stupid water heater now is not the time!_ he thought frantically. He shoved the cloths under the stream anyway, now too distressed to care. Thankfully, the water became increasingly more temperate in the few precious seconds that followed. Almost immediately he pressed the warm fabrics to each of Lovino's wounds. His stress level increased when he realized Lovino no longer reacted to the stimulation of anything his brother did. He was dying. Feliciano desperately pushed down on the heated cloths. " _Merda, merda, merda!_ Don't you dare die on me!" he said, swearing stressfully. The cotton was quickly sullied to a diluted red hue. He guessed Lovino couldn't hear his plea; nevertheless, he assured him repeatedly he wasn't going to die. The seconds passed like minutes. The minutes passed like hours.

Suddenly, the was a crash in the hallway and the pounding of boots hitting the stone and wood stairs. Feliciano was glad he'd left the door open. He took in the sight of Ludwig, tall and muscular, bursting into the apartment like a juggernaut. He pondered what his friend thought as he took in the sight of blood-covered Feliciano and now-unconscious Lovino, both of which were strewn on the floor like a rug. Feliciano watched in relief as a paramedic team hurried into the room with a stretcher. The team gently hoisted Lovino's still body onto the stretcher and whisked him away. Feliciano was slightly apprehensive to let them go with his brother, but before he could protest, Ludwig seized his hand, once again dyed red. Feliciano looked into his intense blue eyes. Tears welled up in his own, and he pushed his forehead into Ludwig's broad chest. He didn't want him to see him cry. The violent sobs racking his body gave him away, though. He wrapped his arms around Ludwig's body, taking deep gasps of his scent. He smelled like sweat and rain and blood. No, wait... the red-haired man realized soon the blood was actually from his own clothes. He was a literal bloody mess. Even still, despite the sickening metallic smell of gore, the musky scent of Ludwig's body brought him a familiar sense of safety. Feliciano snuggled deeper into the folds of the green army jacket as Ludwig gently embraced him, stroking his reddish-brown hair. He sniffed again, closing his eyes. He didn't know how long he was standing there. He could only think of two things when he opened his eyes again.

Lovino was dead and he hated red.


	2. II

When Ludwig woke up, he felt more warm than usual. He lifted the covers from his body. Curled up against his leg and fast asleep was the small frame of Feliciano. Flustered, he leaped out of the bed and shook him violently. “Oi  _ Italien _ ! Just what do you think you’re doing?” he shouted at the man, who looked on the verge of having a heart attack. Feliciano blinked his squinted eyes at him, then looked down. “I was just- I didn’t mean-” he looked extremely frightened. Immediately, Ludwig sighed regretfully. “If there’s something you want, you could have just asked me,” he began with a softer tone. Feliciano shook his head. “I didn’t want to disturb you. You just looked so peaceful and there was lightning and I was scared so I came in and- I’m sorry,” Feliciano responded. Ludwig petted the top of his head. He was much like a puppy: constantly needing attention, curious about everything, terrified of thunderstorms, firing off things at rapid speed knowing full well no one could understand him. Lucky for him Ludwig already had about five creatures that acted just like him.

As if the thought alone had summoned them, there was a loud bark and a silky-coated golden retriever sauntered into the room, right up to Ludwig’s feet. Close behind, skidding on the floor, was a tiny black-and-brown dachshund. She crashed into the golden retriever, seemed stunned for a second, and then got right back up and rounded the room before darting back out. The dachshund nearly ran into a pair of Dalmatians who were making their way into the room. They reared up in surprise before realizing playing with their smaller friend would be more fun than bothering the pair currently stationed in the bedroom. Soon, yet another dog made his way into the room. The German Shepherd whined as he disregarded Ludwig and took the chance to identify the foreign object in his territory. Feliciano whimpered in fear. He curled under the covers while a wet nose sifted through the sheets, trying to find a way through the folds of the fabric. Ludwig smiled slightly.

“You didn’t remember I had dogs? I thought you’d remember Blackie,” he said, referring to the spastic canine who’d left earlier. He scratched the retriever’s ears. The chubby dog wagged her tail. Feliciano kept his head under the comforter, shaking his head. Suddenly, he yelped in surprise. The German Shepherd seemed satisfied with the reaction, but not enough to cease his research. He jumped on the bed and stood on Feliciano, continuing to search for this new creature’s face. Ludwig wanted to laugh, but he felt bad for his friend. “Berlitz, get down,” he commanded. The dog turned and whined, but he reluctantly stepped back to the floor. His brown eyes frowned at Ludwig. He looked slightly hurt. Ludwig felt his heart ache.  _ Why is he so damn cute? _ he thought, kneeling down to scratch Berlitz’s pointed ears. “I can’t stay angry with you, you fuzzy baby,” he cooed to the dog. Berlitz whined again, pressing his nose to Ludwig’s face. The man smiled widely, running his hands through the dog’s silky coat. The Golden Retriever whined too. She covered her human’s face in doggie kisses, causing Ludwig to fall over and laugh. “Aster! You’re such a jealous girl!” he called out. Both dogs continued their conquest of covering his face with as many kisses as possible. He almost didn’t notice through the wet tongues and noses Feliciano staring at him, blushing and smiling through the comforter that still covered most of his face.

Wiggling from underneath the dogs’ bodies, Ludwig cleared his throat and stood up, regaining his original stoic composure. “Ah. Um, well, are you hungry? I’m going to make breakfast,” he offered, scratching the back of his head. Feliciano nodded. There was an awkward silence for a moment before Ludwig reached over Feliciano to grab his phone from the nightstand and turned to leave the room. Of course, the two fat dogs behind him knew full well what that meant, and they barreled forward before he could get his foot out of the door. He nearly tumbled headfirst down the steps. His dogs seemed to forget they weren’t the only creatures in the home during their mad rush for the kitchen. Ludwig was making his way down the steps, clinging on to the banister as his life flashed before his eyes when a loud human yelp sounded in the home. A hard thud followed immediately after. “ _ Verdammte beschissene Hunde! _ ” screamed another male voice. Ludwig almost smiled.

“Not so fun now when it happens to you, hm big brother?” Ludwig teased with his usual steely tone. A silver-haired man glared at Ludwig. Had he not been supporting himself on his elbows, he would have been flat on his back on the slate-grey granite kitchen floor, which would have made the whole scene even more hilarious. “Shut up you arsehole!” he yelled back in the same German accent as Ludwig’s. “And learn how to control these damn dogs too!  _ Mein Gott _ , they’re ridiculous!” He rolled over, swatting away Aster as she came over for kisses. The dog whined before quickly running her tongue over his face and scurrying away as the man swore at her in German. Rubbing his crimson-colored eyes, he approached Ludwig while he came down the steps. “Well West,” he said, dropping his voice to a low whisper, “how’s your boyfriend doing?” Ludwig felt his face heat up.  _ I want to punch him _ , he thought. “He isn’t my boyfriend, Gilbert,” he snapped. Gilbert grinned. “Completely using my first name, wow. You’re really trying to deny how you feel about him,” he said, resting his chin on Ludwig’s shoulder. Ludwig winced, shrugging him off. He didn’t respond, however. Gilbert cooed behind him.

Ludwig stood at the edge of the counter, reaching up to take the box of pancake mix from the cabinet above the stove. Behind him, Gilbert continued. “Anyway, forget about that. Answer my question West. Do you think he’s okay?” he repeated, now sounding more serious. Again, Ludwig hesitated. What kind of stupid question was that? Who would be okay if they walked in on their brother dying in their kitchen? Especially if they tried to help but had no clue what the hell they were doing. Feliciano had always been bright and cheerful, but even he couldn’t be “okay” after something like that. Sure, Lovino was always an ass to him, but they were family. They were brothers. Ludwig squeezed the box. Brothers. At least he could relate to that much. He wondered what Gilbert was thinking about the situation. He mentally rolled his eyes. Gilbert was thinking about  _ him _ , of course.

Ludwig could barely remember him, but Gil wouldn’t shut up about the guy. About Gabriel, who was once the oldest of the Beilschmidt brothers. He and Gilbert were close, from what his older brother told him. Ludwig did remember him taking care of them while he was very, very young. He had striking blue eyes, blonde hair, and a stone face, just like his baby brother Ludwig. Yet he was quiet and notably shy despite being so stoic and powerful; Gilbert always said he’d admired him. And yet Gabriel had died in the crossfire of a shootout between policemen and a street gang. Ludwig recalled the event quite vividly. He remembered gazing out of the window, with Gilbert, who screeched at the thugs to let his brother go. Gabriel’s pained expression, even from several feet below them, as he tore himself free, only to have his shining blue eyes go blank as a bullet soared through his chest. Ludwig remembered watching him crumple to the ground, his big brother wailing Gabriel’s name. He’d just stared at the now-lifeless body of the brother he’d just lost, wondering why their grandfather was cradling a sobbing Gilbert, yelling at the younger boy to get away from the window. He’d cried quickly after hearing the man’s desperate and exasperated voice. He was too young to understand then. Ludwig noticed Gilbert had never been the same since. His big brother had once been just as proud of someone else as he was of himself, maybe even more. It was extraordinary to find someone who dazzled in the spotlight of Gilbert’s mind, Ludwig knew. He turned to glance at him and found his older brother’s ruby eyes staring vacantly down at the floor tiles. It made his soul ache.

He clutched a spatula from the drawer and tapped it against the end of the stove. Gilbert blinked and looked up. He stared at Ludwig for a solid five seconds before looking elsewhere. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he muttered half to himself, scratching the back of his head. Seeming to spontaneously regain his prior composure, the albino man grinned at Ludwig again. “Don’t overwork yourself again little brother, okay? Not everyone can be as awesome as me and work that hard,” he pointed finger guns at him.

“You don’t have a job.”

“Hey! That’s not true! I work with Elizabeta from time to time!”

“That doesn’t count. She doesn’t pay you and she works as a nanny. I wonder how she explains that to the parents.”

Gilbert sniffled. “You’re so mean Ludwig,” he whined. “But I still love my awesome little brother.” He patted Ludwig on the shoulder and turned out of the room, all of the dogs hot on his heels. “I’m going to feed these cute little fuckers.  _ Nach außen, meine tolle Hunde _ !” Gilbert shouted. Aster and Blackie both howled in agreement. Ludwig smirked. It wasn’t often that Gilbert would call him “awesome”. It was usually just himself he acknowledged. Quite a nice gesture. He reached over to the stove knob and turned the eye in front of him on. The black skillet heated up quickly. Within the span of two seconds, he was already mixing and measuring and pouring pancake mix and batter, sometimes on the floor, before placing the mixture on the skillet and creating those beloved bread circles that would have made the man Matthew himself proud. Soon, the entire house smelled of light, buttery heaven. He wondered what that waffle girl would think. For some odd reason. 

Nearly instantaneously, he could hear Feliciano’s light steps skittering down the stairs. Ludwig spun around right before his bright face peered around the corner. Feliciano was in a completely different mood than before. “Luddy! It smells so good in here!” he exclaimed, flinging himself onto Ludwig’s arm. Ludwig swayed indifferently with the impact. He turned to meet Feliciano’s face. Surprisingly enough, his face seemed comparatively the same as it did before the whole thing started. He still had that charismatic smile and his lovely, lively voice to ease anyone’s spirit. Ludwig almost forgot what he was at doing at his house. He remembered when he caught sight of the dark sickles resting under Feliciano’s puffy red eyes. The sparkle in his honey-brown eyes was significantly duller than usual. His body didn’t seem to have changed, but his atmosphere was somber and sullen-- quite a peculiar air for the vivacious and bubbly Italian.

“ _ Guten Morgen, _ ” he replied, suddenly a bit wary of his friend. “I forgot to ask earlier, but how did you sleep?” Feliciano waved a hand dismissively at him. “Oh I’m fine  _ mio amico _ ,” he chirped. The chirp sounded more like a high-pitched keen, cut off abruptly by his airway closing painfully. He wasn’t fine.

Ludwig took a deep breath and swallowed. He noticed Feliciano staring at him in slight confusion. “Is something wrong?” he asked. Inwardly, Ludwig winced again. He should have been the one asking  _ him _ that. He shook his head, looking away. Ludwig could see clearly in his mind the face the reddish-brown haired man was making: squinted eyes low and welling with tears, a sagging frown, cheeks flushed with a guilty blush, face cast in shadow. Ludwig shook his head again and turned to Feliciano. Sure enough, he wore the exact expression Ludwig had predicted. His slender shoulders sagged. Ludwig sighed, rolling his eyes.  _ Every other thing I do either makes him so excited he pisses himself or sends him into a five-minute-long bout of depression, _ he groaned to himself. He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Feliciano jumped. Literally. Ludwig stared at his teary brown eyes. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” he asked in a low voice. Feliciano was silent. He drew back as if he was struck. Ludwig felt his brow furrow. “You’re not ‘fine’, are you?” he asked. Immediately he thought back to his earlier conversation with Gilbert. What a stupid question to ask, he’d thought. What a ridiculously stupid question to ask. He obviously wasn’t fine. That’s why he was Ludwig was already prepared for Feliciano’s small body crashing into his as he broke down in tears.

“I- I’m s-so s-s-sorry Ludwig. I didn’t w-w-wan-t you to b-be so worried ab-bout me,” he hiccuped through his heavy sobbing. Feliciano trembled against Ludwig’s thick, warm body. Ludwig closed his eyes, squeezing the smaller man tight. Feliciano shuddered. He pressed his nose into Ludwig’s chest, seeming to calm down a little. Ludwig rested his chin on his head. The russety forest of curly red smelled like chocolate and lilies, with a hint of pasta sauce. Only naturally. It was his smell, only his. No amount of rain or blood could wash it away from him. Inside of him, Ludwig could feel something burn. A longing, a desire, whatever it was called, all he wanted was to see Feliciano truly smile again. And to see that, he knew he had to protect him. “Whoever did this isn’t going to get away with it. Not on my watch,” Ludwig murmured to Feliciano. “I swear that.”

Suddenly, two things happened.

There was a loud crash, followed by two animal cries of pain, which cut off abruptly. Then his phone buzzed. Ludwig loosened his grip on Feliciano’s body. He could feel his blood run cold. He reached over to the phone on the counter. He had one new text message from an unknown number.

_ Very well _ , it read, _ You can play too. But don’t whine when you lose Luddy, for your sake. I’ll have fun watching you cry. Skinned-up knees won’t mean a thing when we’re done with recess at this playground. Just hope you don’t wander off into the woods and never come back. That I’d be fine with too though~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, I am SO SO SO sorry for not updating this in like, an eternity! I've been working and trying to get myself together. School has been ass-fucking me everyday for the past few months. I still love this fic though, and I'm not scrapping it, so don't panic! Thanks to everyone who's been reading. It really keeps me going knowing that there's someone who is reading my works.

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings fellow Wall Spiders! I am the Queen of Trash. I'm so glad you decided to read this story! If you did, please excuse any errors I've made or kindly point them out. Please leave kudos and a nice comment to help encourage me to continue writing if you liked it. I'd really appreciate that. Stay tuned for new chapters every month!


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